


new sensations, sweet temptations.

by ofmonstersandleashes



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Background Relationships on notes, Biting, Blood Bond, Blood Drinking, Blood Magic, Boys are chatty, Drinking, Dry Humping, Friends with Blood Drinking Benefits?, Galra Keith (Voltron), Hand Jobs, Horny Shiro (Voltron), Implied Switching, M/M, Mutual Pining, Reverse Vampire Seduction, Telepathic Bond, Underplayed Compulsion, Vampire Keith (Voltron), Vampire Venom, Wingmom Krolia, mild size kink, they talk about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2020-12-24 13:57:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21100598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofmonstersandleashes/pseuds/ofmonstersandleashes
Summary: Shiro is not a fool, he can discern the predatory hunger hiding just beneath Keith's skin. But seeing such a primal thing powerless against the force of Keith's nurtured patience — curiously enough, all for Shiro and only for Shiro — is the kind of thing that keeps him awake at night, wondering if it could mean the things he's yearning for.





	new sensations, sweet temptations.

**Author's Note:**

> So this was a thread on my old twitter, after undergoing some HEAVY SOBER EDITING, adding back dialogue and changes I had done to fit fic format better. This au is just where I'l throw my my thoughts over well dressed horny blood drinking. [Title is from this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NzdUeJnn0gM&list=RDsC0xkQA38t4&index=2) and [this other one](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x7WHL-o5tMo) had heavy influence here. Background ships are Kromelle and Alluracxa. Hope you like it!

It wasn't just for the calming effect the venom has on his mind, or the thrill of having vampiric compulsion playing with his senses until he's close to swooning. Shiro has been bitten before, he_ knows _those tricks very well.

What fascinates him is Keith's very special way of doing things, like he's under the influence of some kind of old magic no one else knows about. Because Keith will look at Shiro like one might look at a sunset, a lightning storm, and a supernova. And under his sharp, but kind and otherworldly gaze, Shiro feels like he might as well be all that.

Ungloved hands touch Shiro like he's made of clouds and could dissipate right before Keith's eyes. Feather-light touch travels over every sensitive point on Shiro's body until it responds to Keith as he pleases. And it's easy to tell the moment Keith realizes Shiro is very much real, present and tangible. He can barely conceal a proud and charming smirk as he wills Shiro's heart to beat faster or calm it down until Shiro is just a goodnight kiss away from dreamland.

And Keith drinks from him as if he's relishing on the kind of dessert reserved for old gods. Every gentle scrap of pointy teeth, every bruising kiss and soothing lick he gives before finally listening to Shiro's pleads and relenting to the bite he needs, makes Shiro feels like he's someone to be treasured. 

Shiro is not a fool, he can discern the predatory hunger hiding just beneath Keith's skin. But seeing such a primal thing powerless against the force of Keith's nurtured patience — curiously enough, all for Shiro and _ only for Shiro _ — is the kind of thing that keeps him awake at night, wondering if it could mean the things he's yearning for.

Keith was born dhampir and was fully turned almost a year ago. Galran and human genes taken to the extreme when he entered an Altean Witch Lair to bring Shiro back home and was practically showered with corrupted quintessence. Shiro's blood was the first he ever tasted. And it remained the only one from that day on, aside from the occasional trial and error with the synthetic blood samples created by Allura.

Which are still in initial stages and are barely enough to satiate the occasional controlled thirst of an elder like Krolia, Colleen or Romelle, let alone a famished freshly-turned vampire. With the High Priestess controlling every single blood bank in sight, it was almost impossible to arrange an alternative supplier. And Shiro was already under the Holts wings when Katie was turned at the age of sixteen but showed no interest in feeding on anyone.

Vampires are not literally the undead, but it's believed the line between life and death for them to be particularly thin. They balance over it, depending on blood to avoid falling and losing themselves for good. Pulsing blood. Preferably taken willingly, otherwise, inebriation becomes inevitable and the wire they tread over dissolves into dust.

Luckily, in Pidge’s case, every non-vampire member of Alfor's family, the Garrets, McCLains, and the Marmora Coven promptly offered to donate blood. And in order to prevent Katie from feeling lonely and becoming an outcast, all the families had grown closer.

Now, a few years later they face the same situation all over again. Keith isn’t Pidge, but Keith also has the exasperating habit of refusing to drink from anyone. And while Pidge expresses a vehement preference for bottled blood, Keith doesn't seem to appreciate its taste.

His exception consists of — sadly, less often as time goes by — drinking from Shiro.

But Shiro has to be the one offering. 

Persistently.

* * *

  
  
  


Shiro was facing a bag full of pink and blue birthday balloons he was supposed to use to decorate for Allura's birthday party when Krolia approached him to just casually sit in a couch, sip a fine and too strong wine and chat about the time she took Keith's father as her consort.

Already a little tipsy, she told him it was an old tradition originated in times of seclusion and secrecy when blood was scarce and vampires, the most lonely as they could ever be. It's what they were by nature, after all, or maybe eternity should be the one to take the blame.

There was always the risk of getting tangled in the unfair intricacies of casual blood-drinking. The balance tended to weigh a little bit too much on the offerer’s side with the risks granted by compulsion. Consorting created a connection that leveled the things a bit, adding necessity and vulnerability to the vampire’s side just by sharing vampiric blood. And it was still a double-edged sword because you’re letting a vampire inside your house, your life, your mind. But while on one hand you’re still very much exposed, you win the ability to hold a stake with the other.

So casual blood-drinking is fun — really fun if Shiro can tell by her longing gaze to a particular wall that has nothing as half as entertaining as her dreamy smile seems to suggest — but Krolia tells him she still remembers this intrinsic wish for intimacy.

"I believe it's easy for people like Pidge because she still leaves a door half-opened for people to get closer," Krolia ponders, gaze now switching to the depths of the glass in her hand. "Not that my son doesn't let people in. But he has a habit of keeping a wall that keeps others outside for a little longer. You know he does." 

She seems nervous. Shiro knows she's supposed to meet Romelle at the party. 

"And maybe... Maybe I have some fault in that, but—"

"Krolia," Shiro moved to give a gentle squeeze onto her closest hand for comfort.

"I know, I know," she says, shooing his hand with a wave and squinting comically at her own sloppy move. "This war doesn't allow us to have any control of anything but... It was me making a decision when I left, Shiro."

Her side-eye glance to him is severe. No, not severe. Wounded, maybe weighing just a little too much on the edge of self-questioning. Krolia looks so young, it's easy to forget she has been exactly that young for longer than many civilizations have existed.

And Shiro understands the need to reflect on past relationships before walking towards a new one. It wasn't hard to wonder why her wound still bled.

"I think you made a tough call in a hard time," He tells her. "He's here now, safe, alive and happy his mother is back. His father would be proud of him, and happy for you and Romelle. I know it."

Krolia studies him for a few seconds. 

Shiro recognizes that sharp and piercing gaze. Hers is heavier where Keith's is inflaming, but also spirited where Keith's casted valiance. Keith seems like the perfect nuance between what his mother is and his father had been.

Shiro hadn't met him, but he heard their stories about him, seen a few pictures. Keith is so much like her, every layer of a lion's heart. But still keeps the dashing warmth of his father in his eyes.

"I'm glad he found a friend in you, Shiro," Krolia finally says, reaching out to ruffle his hair as one might do to a child. "And I'm sorry for sulking. Sometimes a mind that lives so long wanders towards dark places."

"I'm used to your family's sulking," Shiro declares, shrinking under her hand but hiding satisfaction in his glass as Krolia snorts and drinks a more enthusiastic gulp of her own wine.

"See, that might make you the perfect remedy to my family's sulking," She grimaces immediately at her own words and lets go of her glass at the center table before them. "All right, look. This isn't me trying to pressure you into anything, maybe it's too soon. I don't know, that's with you two. You have already been thrown into this old war too young." 

She pauses for a deep breath, seemingly pondering her next words.

"I'm just worried. Loneliness is dangerous for us. He _ needs _ blood and he _ needs _ to let people in. We worried about Pidge not having someone and she's doing just fine. The limits to what we believed was possible were expanded with Allura’s synthetics. I see Pidge clinging to everyone around her, and Keith just... I don't know exactly, I wasn't here, but from the things he told me, I feel as if he's trying to keep living his life like I suppose he always did."

"You mean the comfortable distance?" Shiro asks, because he knows.

"Yes. _ Mostly _." Krolia answers, raising an eyebrow that told him more than she was letting on.

"And he isn't feeding at the Coven?"

"No." She tells him as her expression turned into a frown. "Shiro, what's with that face?"

"I—" Shiro stops and rubs his eyes as his feet start tapping anxiously at the floor. "I didn't want any of _ that _. For you to worry or for him to have to go through all this..."

"Shiro?"

He's fixed in a little stain at the couch, refusing to meet her eyes, but gesturing at his own heart in hopes she’ll understand he means every word. "I'm glad he saved me, happy and grateful. I can't even _ try _ to start explaining what I felt when I snapped out of... Of Honerva's control and found _ him _ there for me—"

"Shiro."

"—But I never wanted him to get hurt." He finishes, swallowing away the cracking on his voice.

"_ Shiro." _

"Yes?"

"Who's worrying about things they can't control now?"

Shiro looks back at Krolia. She wears a fond, encouraging smile. 

"Consorting requires a special kind of relationship to work. I don’t wanna pry or suggest things, but I believe that no matter what, you and my son will always have that kind of relationship. You’ve been through enough trials to prove that. And you’re already giving him your life force, Shiro. A few honest words might seem scary, but I promise you it won’t hurt. So _ talk to him _. Please. It’ll be good for both of you."

Shiro just stares at her then, searching for words to answer her obvious statement, but was saved by the ring of the doorbell at the Holt mansion. He made a move to get up from the couch to answer it but was stopped by her gentle — and just a little intimidating when you consider the size of her definitely sharp claws — grasp on his forearm.

"It's all right, I'll answer that, It's Romelle." She says getting up to smooth a hand on her elegant, white, long-sleeved dress. "I don't look like a sad widow, do I?"

Shiro clears his throat. "I, uh, I don't think that's possible. You look great, white's a good color on you." He tries assuring her gently.

"Thanks. Come here, let me look at you." 

He gets up as the taller woman fixes the little mess she had done to his hair, fingers throwing it all the way back and only being satisfied once it flowed just slightly to the front.

"Better. He seems to be looking for you. So please stop playing adult to me and go play adult with my son."

Shiro feels his cheeks burn.

"I... You mean—"

"I meant _ communication _ Shiro," Krolia adds calmly.

"Yes, I know, of course, what else would adults do, right?" Shiro mumbles, hiding his wishes for the ground under his feet to open up and swallow him whole behind a smile.

"Well, if the other thing is what it takes to get you two communicating, please know you have my support._ Oh, _ don't make me that face, I noticed how you're always baring a neck near him. I have to say that's a good strategy. Considering how you two always disappear for a while after you do it, I suppose it's working."

Shiro glances at her, hesitant. She's smiling as she drinks the last of her wine.

He has no idea what to do here. Shiro never checked, but he's sure there's no manual explaining what to do when your best friend's mother suggests you've been fucking her son despite knowing you're very much not together.

And Krolia is a monument compared to him, an extremely intimidating monument. Keith is small enough for Shiro to easily crowd, crush, and squeeze, and yet the young vampire can still kick Shiro's ass with ease sometimes. Shiro has no desire to discover what his mother, almost twice his size, with hundreds of years of experience could do if he said the wrong thing.

But Krolia also has always treated Shiro with kindness, and he believes it is honest.

"To an extent," he confesses, shoving both his hands on his pockets. "I mean, he drinks. And we uh, we kiss because, you know… I need the venom so… Yes?

"Hmm. That's all?"

_ No, _ Shiro thinks as memories of Keith holding him closer, tighter and making noises so sweet against his neck Shiro had left to jerk off hidden in a bathroom race across his mind. 

"Yes," he lies.

"I wasn't born yesterday, Shiro." She reprimands. Still smiling.

"I know, I'm sorry." Shiro exhales. "But there’s nothing else happening between me and Keith."

"But you wish there was."

"I…" _ Yes _. "He doesn't see me like that."

"Did you ask him?"

"No? He just told me, he said I'm like a brother to him."

"_ Oh _."

_ Ouch. _

"Ok, Shiro, look at me."

He does as told as Krolia gripped his chin to tip his face up to face her.

"My son isn't a genius, particularly when it comes to you, and feelings are confusing enough. Promise me you'll talk to him."

"I'll… I’ll talk to him." Shiro agrees in a shy tone.

"Before getting into his pants."

"I... _ Wha _— Yes! Krolia, I..."

Krolia cuts him off with an amused snort. "I'm messing with you Shiro," She let go of him and turned around to walk away as the doorbell ringed a second time. "I'm sure you boys can multitask!" Echoed her voice through the corridor.

Shiro releases a long, embarrassed sigh and empties the rest of his wine at once. He almost refills his glass, but on second thought, taking the whole bottle with him as he darted back to the room Lance had asked him to decorate seems a better idea.  
  
  


* * *

Shiro was just hanging the last flower-shaped balloon arrangement in the dining room with Pidge when Keith finally finds them. The wine bottle is already empty and forgotten in a coffee table. Pidge spent the last 20 minutes mocking his color matching skills.

"Finally, I looked everywhere for you," Comes Keith's voice from somewhere behind Shiro as he balances himself standing on a chair. Keith's heavy booted footsteps stop. "Are you two hiding or something?"

"Kind of," Pidge tells him. "Shiro doesn't want another lecture from Lance over how to properly hang a balloon."

"Understandable." 

"Not listening to Lance or the need for a lecture?" Pidge teases.

Shiro counts seven seconds of silence before Keith finally answers.

"I suppose both."

"You're invited to climb up a chair and do better anytime," Shiro challenges while tying a curly ribbon around the junction of the balloons.

The silence stretches.

"Nah, I think I'm good down here."

There's just a slight hint of amusement in Keith's words that do not go unnoticed to Shiro.

"Pidge?" He calls while getting another ribbon from his pocket and ripping it between his teeth.

"Yes?"

"Is he looking at my ass?" 

He can hear her long-suffering sigh.

"No Shiro, he did not lean beside me to gaze at your muscular ass in tight dark jeans perfectly displayed just a bit above eye-level. What an absurd concept. Who would do such a thing when there's the possibility to admire this… This random ugly wooden chair that my dad bought when we moved in..." Pidge answers in a lifeless tone.

"Or Shiro's perfect balloon hanging skills," adds Keith.

Shiro ties the last ribbon and turns around to face their unconvincingly innocent smiles with both hands on his waist.

"I don’t think that’s how you watch someone’s back." He tries on a condescending tone, but the bottle of wine in his not-used-to-drinking system combined with Pidge and Keith’s synchronized disbelieving snort never allows it, turning Shiro’s scowl into a shy smile in the last second.

Shiro offers a pleading hand to Keith.

"Help me down?"

Keith comes closer to reach for him. 

"Losing balance, old-timer?"

"Yeah, something like that," Shiro grunts, absolutely not taking advantage of the situation to also wrap his prosthetic around Keith's shoulder and descend right into the younger man's space.

Keith was gorgeous as always, in black pants, a white shirt, gloves, and his usual red leather jacket. Shiro's sure his heart must've skipped a thousand beats when his favorite pair of eyes look up to meet Shiro's own. Luckily, Keith is still sustaining Shiro's weight when he breathes a hesitant "_ Hey _," too close against Shiro's intoxicated mouth.

"_ Hey, _" Shiro echoes, internally thanking his last two sober brain cells that thought about holding so tight onto Keith.

"Guys, _ please _." comes Pidge's exasperated voice beside them.

"Right, sorry Pidge." Shiro half-detaches himself from his embarrassing embrace — but still refusing to let go of Keith's shoulder — to stare at his work and understand what they meant. 

"Yeah, I don't know how to hang balloons."

"No, look, the single ones you glued to the ceiling look pretty decent." Keith tries to reassure him.

"But your flowers are catastrophic," Pidge retorts. "If you were going for realism with the uneven petals, I'm so sorry, you didn't nail it."

"Yeah," Shiro exhales. "If I hug her really tight she'll forgive me, right?"

"It's Allura, Shiro. She'll see all this and lift you from the ground in a crushing embrace." Pidge bit her bottom lip, contemplating and moved away from the table. "Hopefully. Well, I'm starving, I'm gonna head to the kitchen to get a snack. Keith, you can join me if you want. Shiro too, but I suppose you wouldn’t want our kind of snack."

Under Shiro's hand, Keith body goes stiff

"Thanks, Pidge, but I'm fine. I think I'll pass."

"_Sure. _" She didn't seem convinced and exchanged a last look with Shiro to get her point across.

"You need someone to make you company?" Shiro asked with a quiet smile.

"Not you, you stink of Keith’s property. Makes me anxious," Pidge replied, not caring a bit about making them embarrassed as she made her way out the room. "Don’t worry, I know Ina is around, I'll find her or literally anyone else. See you two at the party!" 

It was rare for Shiro to not know what to say, particularly to his best friend, but being called Keith's property had apparently rebooted his mind. Luckily, Keith was faster in resuming his stalling and faced Shiro as if nothing had happened.

"Uh, I'm going out with Hunk and Acxa to bring the cake. Lance said there was a list of stuff to buy with you."

Shiro did wonder why Lance had left it with him. He was aware of everyone's attempts to get Keith to drink, but how those eventually resorted to leaving Keith and Shiro alone for the past few weeks kept surprising him.

Keith still avoided it. Shiro presumed the improvement reported by the other vampires on Allura’s synthetics was the reason for Keith to spend longer periods without putting his claws and teeth on Shiro. Ideally, he should feed at least once a day and Shiro can’t say he doesn’t miss it, — because he does and giving Keith space is an _ excruciating _ wait — but he’s known for being a patient man.

Shiro starts slow then. Takes the list out of his pocket and maneuvers Keith around the Holt's mansion, deflecting from the few windows where open curtains still let the sunshine in, double-checking which drinks and appetizers listed he knows are needed. And pretends he doesn't know what he's doing when he lets go of the firm, indulgent grip he still had on Keith's shoulder to release one, then two buttons near the collar of his own shirt.

He ignores the way Keith tenses and clears his throat to level the suddenly ragged tones in his voice as he reads through the list. Pretends he doesn't see how and doesn’t know why Keith refuses to look back at Shiro while asking if they should stop at the Altean lab and bring a sample of the new synthetic blood to deliver to Lotor.

Shiro goes along with it, tells him to bring only a few, hand settling comfortably at the small of Keith’s back as he leads them to a corridor that clearly takes them farther apart from the mansion's entrance. His own heart is racing from anticipation and for having Keith so close. Mind wondering if Keith's pretending not to notice or if he's just really that distracted.

Still, if what Pidge told him earlier is correct, and she's the only one consuming the blood on the Mansion’s freezer, if Krolia is worried because he's not drinking back at the Marmora, and the last time Keith tasted blood was from Shiro's neck 5 days ago, Keith must be hungry.

Meaning his senses are sharp as his blade, and he knows exactly what Shiro's doing.

Because if Shiro can hear his own heart hammering inside his chest, Keith can definitely hear it too. Every beat must be a maddening, infuriating thrum inside his ears, encouraging him to let go of reason and take what he needs to take and Shiro eagerly wants to give.

Once they finally reach the door to their favorite study room, Shiro stops walking. Keith gives two more steps ahead before turning his head just enough to catch a glimpse of what Shiro was doing without fully exposing his face on the low lit corridor.

"Something wrong?" He asks. 

Shiro thinks he could ask Keith the same, but he already knows the answer he’ll get.

"I just want to talk." He says instead, offering a hand and waiting. Two, three, four heartbeats. Shiro won't move another finger, it's Keith's turn to make a decision. After just one more instant that feels like an eternity, Keith finally puts the list in his pocket to take Shiro's hand.

Keith takes advantage of the afternoon's low lighting and his long hair to keep his eyes covered. By now it's pointless, Shiro already knows. What he doesn't know is why Keith still insists.

He doesn't turn his eyes from Keith as he paces backward then, even when he instantly regrets the movement, turned clumsy by the wine's influence. At least it made the corners of Keith's mouth twist up in amusement. Shiro is almost sure he's seen it. A good sign, something to contrast with the unsure hold in his hand.

Shiro's prosthetic finds a doorknob behind him and turns it, pushing it open. Sunset light bathes half of the room, leaving Shiro's favorite couch off-limits, but it's fine. He pulls Keith inside the room just slightly faster with a smile and a reassuring squeeze at slender fingers, pushing the door closed to press his best friend against it.

Keith's eyes close as soon as Shiro towers over him, but his hands still rise to hold on to Shiro's shirt.

"Hey," Shiro tries and his voice comes out hoarse. He clears his throat in search of a more controlled, soothing tone. "Keith, _ please _. Look at me."

Shiro’s close enough to see Keith's chest rising faster, but never relenting to his request. Shiro takes a deep breath, lifts his left hand, cradling Keith’s face so his thumb can caress at the scarred skin slowly, carefully. And under his touch, Keith melts.

Tilts his head back against the door, parts his mouth just a tiny bit. It's almost inviting, and terrifying. Definitely not the kind of thing Shiro can justify with the usual excuses that range from_ "he’s a vampire, of course he’s horny" _ to _ "of course Keith is okay with kissing me, he’s kind like that" _. And it demands all of Shiro's strength to ignore the urge to sink into Keith until there isn't a single fraction of his lean, defined body left untouched.

Because just_ that tiny bit _ is all Shiro needs to lower his thumb and pull at Keith's upper lip, exposing a sharp, bloody fang.

"You're hungry."

Keith groans.

"Starving, actually. You've cut your lip trying to hide them from me." Shiro adds with a smile, retrieving his hand from Keith's pretty mouth before it escapes the little he still has of self-control and settling it at Keith's hip.

Keith's eyes flutter open, irises down to a thin, predatory slit on slightly bright and yellow-tinted sclera as he glares at Shiro through his eyelashes.

"So this is what you're doing," escapes the thin, annoyed line formed by his lips. His voice is nothing but a husky breath, makes Shiro's heart jump up to his throat. 

But Shiro swallows it down.

Keith is inherently intoxicating on normal days. But this? Looking at Shiro like a predator two provocations away from jumping at his neck and splitting it in two? 

He's electrifying.

But this isn't about Shiro, and it's easy to bottle his feelings away.

"How long?"

"Five days, _ obviously. _" Keith drags the last word, eyes shifting to focus longingly on the curve of his neck, exposed when Keith tugs just enough of his collar to the side. Two thin little marks have been healing there, alongside older ones. 

It stings under his gaze, aching with anticipation. Disentangling himself from Keith, Shiro starts to unbutton the rest of his shirt.

Keith's eyes widen. 

"What are y— _ Shiro _," He hisses, hands reaching up to clutch around Shiro's wrists to prevent them from moving further. "Please, don't."

Shiro lifts him an eyebrow in defiance.

"Excuse me, that's my shirt, I'll do what I want," Shiro protests, playfully and keeps moving despite the strong hold Keith still has on him. "If you weren't starving, you'd have no problem to control yourself just from seeing me strip," he adds as if stripping was his most level-headed decision.

Maintaining Keith's gaze even as hands tighten around Shiro's own, he feels a claw graze against his skin, just slightly, but still enough to get his heart pumping faster again. 

Keith lets him go and crosses his arms.

"I'm still not gonna drink from you. I do have it under control." He says like his eyes aren't following Shiro's every movement.

"You said that last time." Shiro counters, unable to hold back a grin as he shucked his arms free of the fabric.

"I'm aware." Keith’s voice is a growl, and it shoots right to Shiro's dick.

This is usually where he starts pleading his heart to calm down, his mind and body to act cool and his cock to behave. But maybe due to the alcohol, maybe due to his conversation with Krolia; Shiro decides to go with the flow of things.

Thankfully, It’s getting dark and Keith seems too distracted by Shiro's chest to notice anything else.

"Since when do you have a nipple piercing?" He asks, eyes studying the silver barbell on his left pec, adorned with a black rock on each edge.

"A few weeks. Lost a bet to Matt and Allura."

"Huh." Keith seems pensive. "You never told me."

"You've been avoiding me." Escapes the sheepish reply as Shiro folds his shirt.

"You mean trying."

"Trying?"

Keith's eyes dig into Shiro’s. "You never really let me avoid you. You give me space and everything, but you're still always with me."

Shiro offers a smile. "I'm glad it shows."

He throws the shirt at the nearest table. Hands resting at his hips and not caring a bit if it seems like he’s shamelessly putting himself on display. Because it works, Keith's biting a lip, and his eyes are definitely distracted. 

"Keith?"

"Yes?"

"Please, drink from me?"

Shiro observes when Keith lays his eyes at the spot on Shiro's neck that craves contact, then diverts it to Shiro's lips and finally stares him straight in the eyes before taking a deep breath and landing his blow with a blank expression.

"No."

It hurts, and not just because it has been days, but because doing the math and coming with a disappointing result is fairly easy.

_ But this isn’t about you. _

"Keith, you can't keep doing this."

"Actually, vampires can go for a week without a single drop of blood."

Shiro exhales, reminds himself he's patient. "I'm sure they can."

"It's been only five days, Shiro. I'm fine."

_ I’m not _, he wishes he could say. "I'm sure you are. But you don't have to go without it for a week if I'm... Always with you," He throws back at Keith, raising a hand to cup at Keith’s face. "Right?"

Keith's lips form a thin and silent line as an answer.

Shiro drops his hand and takes one step back.

"Ok." He swallows and prepares his heart to jump through the metaphorical cliff he's been staring at ever since the first time he joined his mouth to Keith's and found the sweetest, warmest, most irresistible lips he'd ever tasted.

Their first kiss, if he could even call it a kiss, had involved Keith draped on a ruined couch, head resting at Shiro's lap while Shiro sank to lick the numbing venom from Keith's mouth. He hated surprising Keith like that, particularly since Keith was feverish and delirious with thirst, not too long after fighting Shiro, having his face burned by Shiro, having to cut off Shiro’s arm and save them both from falling to certain death when half of the Lair exploded. Shiro hated hearing Keith’s lovely little moan of surprise and not being able to do anything about it. He pulled away fast and raised his remaining wrist towards Keith's lips so he could drink before things got any worse.

Shiro remembers caressing his cheekbone, avoiding the wounded flesh and ignoring the sharp pain as the venom took too long to work on his system. Silently saying goodbye to the kindest, fiercest and the most beautiful man he had ever met as Keith held his arm against his mouth, eyes closed as he drank, seemingly unaware of the way his fingers tangled with Shiro's while blood rushed faster.

Shiro never thought he would still be conscious when Krolia and Colleen stormed the coven with back-up. The idea of coming back home one more time, battle bruised, missing an arm, and drained of blood seemed absurd. But they brought him home, gave him a new arm and new purpose when an alliance between humans and galrans and a few Alteans that sought for Alfor's daughter after Honerva's sudden disappearance had been forged, after years of isolation and detachment.

And Shiro made sure to kiss Keith gently every time now. 

Doesn't matter if it seemed like just a formality in the first few months. Shiro wanted to believe it did matter that Keith seemed bold enough to respond cheerfully soon enough. Pulling Shiro closer beside him on a couch, caressing Shiro's hair to bring him down from the high.

Still, always restrained, careful, like two teenagers too young and shy to move further and cross the invisible line.

Even when Keith sank to drink him in. Shiro did his best to swallow back the noises that threatened to escape him while Keith worked magic on his skin. Until Shiro was too lost to hold a moan back, and Keith would retract from his ferocious nuzzling, licking his lips, red-faced and not just from the blood all over his mouth.

And then, Keith started taking longer to search for Shiro, and the lack of explanations left him wondering.

Shiro has been wanting to take this leap for a while, but the fear of a crash felt too high. But tonight, he decides to go with Krolia's advice.

Partially, at least.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Yes."

Shiro runs a hand through his hair. He feels exposed without a shirt and decides he'll never drink again. "Do you want me to stop?"

"I…" Keith’s eyes go wide in confusion. "Shiro… That’s not—"

"No. Look, Keith, you don't have to explain yourself to me. That’s the last thing I want. It's ok, not everyone is comfortable being that intimate with friends and maybe that’s the case here. But I… I don’t mind convincing you over and over again, I’ll happily do it as many times you need me to, but I’m worried. You shouldn't keep going like this. You have other options. I know you don't like both the bottled and the synthetic blood but if the problem is..." Shiro rubs his temple. His heart is threatening to sink, but he ignores it. "If you want me to stop, and try something else you can tell me. You can find someone else. I wouldn't… _ Won't _ mind. You could try. I wouldn't... I'm fine with it."

It's not completely a lie, but it's enough for Shiro to regret it the second it leaves his mouth because it doesn't matter how good of a liar Shiro can be, Keith learned to read him like a child's book, plain and simple. And the wine doesn't let him mask the way his voice cracks. Keith can hear his heartbeat, his panicked breathing. This was a mistake.

On the other hand, Shiro doesn't want to go another day wondering if Keith thinks they're stuck together because Shiro fed him blood on a delirious deathbed impulse.

Keith's eyes are back to human form by now, and they're wide, locked on Shiro's own. He's frowning, quiet, too still. Shiro isn't even sure Keith's breathing and since the last time he checked, vampires still needed to breathe.

"Keith, please say something?" He requests carefully, placing both hands on his waist and searching Keith's face for a sign of... Anything. "Did I say something wrong?"

Keith purses his lips, considering. "Uh yes? I don’t… Want other options."

"Are you sure? It’s okay if you just see me differently." Shiro offers.

"Differently..." Keith highlights.

Shiro ignores the cold dread spreading inside him and goes for the honesty Krolia talked about. "I mean, not as I see you."

Keith frowns deepens. "Which would be..?"

Shiro feels as if time will stop. He swallows. "Romantically."

Keith just stares at him. Still leaning against the door, expression blank. For too long.

"Keith?" Shiro tries to call him back.

"I'm… Shiro, I—" Keith’s voice comes out raw and he stops to clear his throat. His hands almost move forward as if he wanted to reach for Shiro but he pulls it back, fidgeting. "I don’t want other options or other people. I want… You."

"Oh." Shiro ignores the way his body immediately screams for him to press Keith against that door forever, because he needs to know. "Then why do you refuse to drink my blood?"

"Because I almost sucked you dry of it back at the Lair?" 

Shiro reaches out and gently slides his knuckles at Keith's scar. "What about this?"

His barely-there touch gets Keith shivering and closing his eyes.

"That's different."

Shiro raises an eyebrow. "Not for me."

"She was controlling you."

"Yes, she was. And yet every time I dream about it, I'm the one who’s hurting you." 

_ "Shiro _." Keith hisses, hands finally giving in and pulling Shiro for a hug with the extraordinary force he’s always careful not to use, arms wrapping around his neck and bringing him close. 

Keith's hugs were always unique on their own. The kind of thing you memorize for a lifetime. Shiro doesn’t mind getting lost on it, bury his face on Keith’s hair. 

"You know what I think about that day?" Shiro’s voice comes out muffled. "You, getting inside that Lair on your own for me, fighting for me, staying for me, pleading for me. The odds were against us and we still got out of it alive," He pulls back, wanting to look at Keith "Because you wouldn't give up on me."

They’re too close. Keith's eyes are mesmerizing like this.

"And then you told me you love me."

"I do." Keith’s voice is cautious as if he's still scared Shiro could put his shirt back on, turn away and leave.

Shiro remembers Krolia saying her son is not a genius when it comes to Shiro and he almost wants to laugh because he's an idiot himself too. It's almost embarrassing and he could definitely laugh any other day.

"You also called me—"

"I…" Keith takes a deep breath and tilts his head to the side. "I was scared of losing you."

Shiro smiles, pressing their foreheads together, his hands running through Keith’s back. "That’s not in the realm of possibilities, baby_ . _"

Keith cocks him an eyebrow.

"Too much?"

"Not at all."

"I can come up with something el—"

"No! I uh…" Keith looks to the side, sheepish. "I like it."

"Good, cause it suits you. I almost let it slip a few times already."

Keith groans and buries his face on Shiro's neck. Shiro feels every muscle in his body tensing as Keith breathes him in.

"You're thirsty."

"I am," Keith says, nipping at Shiro's sensitive skin.

"And horny."

"You're literally naked."

"The things I'll do for you."

Keith laughs, and pulls away, reclining against the door to look up at Shiro. "I still don't wanna hurt you."

"I don't think you will," Shiro replies, sinking into him. Playfully nudging his nose against Keith's. "You're learning. Five days is a lot of time."

"Shiro, I…" Keith starts. But the sun sets, covers the room in darkness. And when Shiro brushes his lips against Keith's, the younger man closes the gap.

It's slow and attentive and it gets Keith to make the same, little surprised noise that has been haunting Shiro's dreams. Pressing legs, bodies and lips, Keith's hands raise to the back of his neck and Shiro feels claws again, raking just enough at his scalp to stir a shiver from Shiro's spine. A flick of his tongue gets Keith parting a pliant, welcoming mouth for him. Shiro tastes a refreshing pinch of toothpaste, the acid suggestion of venom and...

Something else, something different.

He sucks into Keith's lower lip, experimenting. It's acrid, overwhelmingly metallic and it burns his tongue as Keith's little _ hmph _ turns into a hiss.

Shiro pulls away. "I forgot," is all he can think of saying before every cell in his body is set alight by the contact with Keith's vampire blood.

Shiro shuts his eyes to a radiance that he knows is not real but it's bright enough for him to almost lose his balance. He feels disoriented but is still slightly aware of Keith’s worried voice calling for him as the hands around Shiro keep him grounded.

"I know, I forgot," Shiro repeats, his mind is swirling. "I forgot you were bleeding."

Keith rubs at his arms in a soothing motion while leading him through the room. "—ep your eyes closed."

Shiro follows, sitting once the back of his knee hits a couch.

"How do you feel?" comes Keith's voice.

His skin is scalding, he feels as if his heart is running a marathon on his own. It's prickling pain that begs for pleasure, a loneliness that comes from the sudden hyper-awareness of how distant Keith feels, despite the fact he is just by his side, trying to comfort Shiro.

"Really compelled to fall with my neck right into your teeth."

"Sounds awful." 

"A matter of perspective."

After a few too-long seconds, Keith sighs. "Still a problem."

Shiro wants to reach for him again, pull Keith closer over himself until they're lying spread on that couch, caring only about sharing body warmth and other things.

But Keith is right, and Shiro clings to the disorientation and does none of that. "I know," he answers as he realizes he can hear, almost feel Keith's lungs accelerating to match his own. "Wait, did you just support my joke?"

"You're hallucinating. I'm gonna get out of here, call Allura and leave with Hunk and Acxa," Keith reassures, seemingly more to himself than Shiro. "You will wait here until Allura comes through that door, and once you can think straight again, you text me and tell me what do you want to do. Okay?"

"Is it really necessary?"

"If you feel like you have to ask me that, then yes, absolutely, Shiro," Keith answers, then lifts both of Shiro's hands to place a fond, feather-light kiss over each, stirring fireworks on Shiro's bloodstream. "Whoa, bad idea."

The quiver Shiro feels is Keith's, not his own. It's strange, a split-second out of body experience, but Keith lets go of his hold before Shiro can even think of relenting to his body's pleads and chasing Keith's mouth for a deeper kiss, to swallow and devour every hoarse sound he wants to pull from it. And without Keith's touch, the world goes dark and cold.

It's a weird sensation, Shiro thinks as he listens to the door slam shut and opens his eyes to an empty room, having desire and need run so fast through his veins that he almost can't control or push it away. Because Shiro is really good at pushing it away until it's just him. But putting back his shirt and staying in the dark without running after Keith feels so inherently wrong, by the time Allura and Matt arrive to rescue him, Shiro is covered in cold sweat.

Allura has been through the same situation too many times to offer him anything but a sympathetic smile and a glare at Matt's direction because the dhampir can't help blurting out an "_ I told you so. _" Shiro knows he's been dreaming with for months now.

They escort Shiro to his bedroom, where Allura has been kept all day alternating lazy naps with movies while everyone else arranged her party. There, Shiro is thrown into a bathtub and it helps. His body relaxes a bit as soon as he dips his feet in the warm water. But his heart is still hurting.

He's spent time away from Keith before and it was never like this. There's emptiness, the kind Shiro hasn't felt in a while.

"That's the price of five days," Allura tells him and Matts makes a bubble mohawk with Shiro's hair. "Acxa says it's close to what they feel when they pull away from us without drinking. Don't worry, it will get easier. But I wouldn't advise repeating it."

It also probably helps that Keith is not near to inadvertently lure him. Still, knowing he will come back keeps Shiro's mind on an unchanging state of dizzy anticipation as time goes by and his friends try to distract him.

Eventually, they decide to get dressed, which means picking between 15 of Allura's outfits until she goes for a sparkling blue dress, trying to tame Matt's long mane into a low ponytail, and waiting as patiently as Shiro can for his friend's opinions on his own clothes while they discuss over Keith being an ass or chest kind of guy.

Shiro has already sobered up, blow-dried his hair and styled his bangs to fall loose over his face, even tried his whole closet by the time they conclude Keith is a Shiro kind of guy.

There's agreement on a loose, silky, black and white button-up, tucked inside a mid waisted black pair of pants, to accentuate the curve of his back, — or emphasize his ass, as Matt makes sure to correct Allura as both of them start giggling — finishing by rolling up his sleeve and putting on black, low heeled ankle boots.

Allura is not satisfied and fumbles around her jewelry box and picks up a thin, silver chain with a tiny round and polished black stone for a pendant that matches _too perfectly_ with his piercing, claiming he should get something shiny between his collarbones if he wants to leave those 4 buttons undone. Shiro puts it on, rubs a finger over it and squints quizzically at the alchemist as the jewelry soothes the tension and the buzzing on his mind. Not completely, but at least enough for him to cheer up again.

"Oh Shiro, sweetie. We all knew this was going to happen. Consider it a gift." She claims with a grin.

* * *

Shiro doesn't hate parties, but as he sets his feet on the mansion's living room, he admits he's relieved it's just their closest friends. 

Lotor and the Sincline Clan are the ones he's most unfamiliar with, but they're okay. Kova is a nice cat to have around, a bit scary, but still enjoys affection. Zethrid, Narti, and Ezor are presences on their own, Lotor even engages in diplomacy talk with Shiro and Kolivan, for as long as they can until Allura notices and playfully scold them for working when she can't.

Pidge and Matt's excessive company that feels a lot like babysitting doesn't bother Shiro. He's glad for it, actually. It's easier to keep himself distracted with their conversations, and he doesn't think he could handle small talk with Krolia and Romelle on his own. Particularly because Shiro is finding out Krolia is just as touchy-feely as Keith when inebriated. Her arm is wrapped around Romelle at all times and whenever the younger vampire opens her mouth, it's like the rest of the world has died down for Krolia. The fond, devoted gaze she wears is too similar to the one Keith always reserves to Shiro and his heart aches because he never knew how to answer it with enthusiasm without crossing lines. But seeing Romelle basking herself with Krolia's affections is fairly inspiring.

All in all, as far as parties usually go, this one is progressing pretty well.

At least until Shiro picks up something in the air and his heart leaps. Closing his eyes to focus just enough, he can almost taste it.

It's a familiar aroma of refreshing soap on a clear skin that doesn't care much about perfume. Not that it could ever need any. A scent so naturally soothing it reminds Shiro of a breeze that travels through trees under the full moon summer night. With just the surreal, but sweet and intoxicating suggestion of something as strong as cinnamon that catches on Shiro's throat and steals all the air from his lungs.

Shiro doesn't even stop to check the message his datapad just received, he already knows Keith's at the door. He gets up and tugs Matt to leave the balcony with him, mentally thanking Allura’s stone for allowing him a coherent thought.

And he's glad he did, very proud of his decision to bring back-up because opening the door revealed Keith fully dressed in black, midnight hair slicked back, with his kittenish, indigo eyes anchored on Shiro. Without Matt, Shiro would've dragged Keith to his room and call it the end of the party for both right there.

But Shiro knows Keith likes parties, knows Allura is happy for having everyone together, and he owes her good behavior, so he relents to just admiring Keith for now.

Because for once, Keith has dumped his red leather jacket and t-shirt combo to put on a delicate, long-sleeved lace button shirt. The design was a mix of angular stripes with baroque flowery patterns that envelop and outlines all the curves on his lean body. The collar and cuffs were leather, — because of course, Keith had to somehow use leather — adorned with a gold collar bar with a pretty red stone on each edge, matching his cufflinks and the smaller rock at his ears.

Leaning at the door frame, Keith glances up at Shiro. "You didn’t call," he says out loud.

Thoughts of taking Keith somewhere private danced on his mind again.

But he shoved them away because the defiant smirk hanging on Keith's lips was too good to be removed so soon into the night.

Plus, Matt was clearing his throat behind Shiro, bringing him back to reality.

"Keith, I—" escaped from his throat in an overly fond tone before he could contain himself. He mirrored the younger man, throwing his weight against the doorframe and tried again "Yeah, I didn’t."

"We should’ve talked about what we’re gonna do."

"I have it under control." 

Keith just smiles at hearing his own words thrown back at him.

"You look really good." escapes Shiro's mouth before he can contain himself.

Keith bites his lip, gaze losing itself somewhere under Shiro's jaw.

"It's Allura's birthday, I thought about listening to her once and leaving the jacket at home." 

He sounds so cool and collected, Shiro wants to hear nothing but his voice the whole night.

"It was a good idea." He replies, definitely not staring at Keith's chest through the lace. Shiro swallows again. "I mean, I love your jacket. You look great either way, I'm sure you'd probably look great in any way, even nak— I… You look good, tonight, Keith."

Shiro can hear something that reminds him of a choking horse coming from behind him, but it seems so distant and unimportant when Keith is this close. So close Shiro could probably kiss him.

But before Shiro makes any move, or Keith snaps away from his trance to fully comprehend Shiro's last words, Hunk arrives at the door carrying too many shopping bags and a frown the size of his bicep.

"Oh, good. I can see we're all gorgeous, now can you two please come back to earth because I believe I was perfectly clear when I asked Keith to bring reinforcements, and not flirt with reinforcements."

If there is something on this Earth that can catch everyone's steadfast attention, it's Hunk's tone of displeasure. It's not rare, unfortunately, because Hunk is a wise man and he's surrounded by many predictable idiots, Shiro is aware of that.

But sometimes said displeasure comes with an extra flavor of resentment, and with resentment, the danger zone. Lance, Allura, and Shiro had spent two weeks at the danger zone once, after an incident with Hunk's car and it had been the kind of experience everyone learned to avoid.

So it's an efficient tone, enough to break whatever cosmic spell currently influencing Keith and Shiro.

"Huh? Oh... Right! Yes, you did, Hunk." Keith admits apologetically, stumbling down the porch's steps to take some of the weight from his hands. "Well, you didn't need to bring everything at once, otherwise what's the point of reinforcements?" 

"We're two hours late, and I want to be far away from that car before someone remembers something else is missing," Hunk argues, climbing behind Keith.

Shiro can see Acxa carrying Allura's cake in the distance as he tries to move from the doorway to give them space.

Keith approaches Shiro to propel himself on his tiptoes and plant a charming, seemingly chaste kiss on Shiro's lips, then hurrying to the pantry without looking back.

It's nothing but a taste, and it's still enough to set Shiro's body on fire and his legs into jelly.

Hunk's stare is impassive. "In your defense, I helped with his clothes."

"Considering the way Shiro short-circuited, I suppose you've done a good job. " Matt comments, trying to hold back his chortling under Shiro's glare.

"Don't take all his credit, Keith knew what he wanted, just needed some guidance." Acxa intervenes, tone unwavering, as always.

Hunk deflated and kept walking. "You never let me have fun."

"I supposed you've had enough fun with his face for the past 3 hours." She nods at the cake. "Where should I put it?"

"Dining room," Matt replied. "Keys are in the car?"

"Yes."

"Ok, Shiro and I will get the rest. You're officially free of babysitting horny vampires, so please go entertain your girlfriend, she and I had to literally throw Shiro in a bathtub, it was really stressful."

The vampire raises him an eyebrow but proceeds on her path, leaving Matt alone at the porch to face Shiro's death stare.

Shiro closed the door behind them. "It wasn't stressful."

"You're intoxicated, and you just almost fainted because Keith kissed you, your opinion doesn't count."

"Considering how many times he_ babysitted _ Allura for me, yes, it does count!" came Acxa's muffled shout from inside the house.

"Thank, Acxa!" Shiro yelled back at her and turned to definitely not pout at Matt. "And I also didn't almost faint."

"Yet." 

Shiro ignores it as they walk down the porch stairs and towards Hunks's car, now perfectly restored. 

Matt's watching him closely.

"How are you feeling?"

Shiro ponders for a few seconds, eyes lost in the garden's stone trail. "You know when you're hammered, that _ delightful _ way you feel right before throwing up?"

"Yeep."

"It's that. But instead of exposing my insides, I want to search for Keith and offer every single vein in my body." Shiro finishes.

"Sounds amazing. But I thought that was every day you?"

He makes sure to give Matt the prosthetic's middle finger, only because it's bigger.

* * *

Shiro swears he had all the intentions to behave and socialize, but he might have underestimated the strength of his desire.

He supposes Allura's enchanted pendant also helps him hold himself back because for every single second he doesn't have his hands on Keith, Shiro feels as if his body was bathed in cold water. Muscle, skin, and bones feel numb, longing for warmth and contact.

Not any contact tho, and he knows.

More than once Shiro has to isolate himself because there's too much noise, or so it feels like. He’s aware the music's volume is reasonably low because everyone knows what he's going through at this point, but he can still feel every reverberation of it echoing through his ears, hammering against his skull.

He tells Matt he's fine, he'll just stay at the mansion's gazebo, appreciating the view from the garden, breathing some fresh air. Matt doesn't have to worry. And since Shiro's still the best liar out of the two of them, Matt leaves him for some peace.

It works a little, better than trying to distract himself. Many times he watched over Allura whenever she was in the same situation but not once understanding why she spent 75% of her free time away from Acxa sleeping. Maybe it makes sense now.

Or maybe not, because if he closes his eyes to take a deep breath everything gets worse and heightened. He can almost hear Keith's voice calling for him begging for Shiro to come and feed him, save him, or kiss him. Just touch him already would be enough.

_ Because there's hunger and it's for Shiro only, any other blood is not enough, tastes lifeless and bland and just leaves him unsatisfied. And it's scary because everything about being a vampire is scary, but it's worse when you're falling in love. It's not free and selfless, because those were never things meant for the wicked. Shiro comes to him and Keith's heart wants to consume, wants everything Shiro has to offer and won't mind bending Keith to his knees to get it. _

_ Not that Keith’s complaining, he doesn’t mind fighting for Shiro, even if it means fighting himself. Still, sometimes Keith feels as if he's way past the point of saving, because he enjoys it, but doesn't think Shiro deserves to be condemned to loving like that. _

_ Not that loving Shiro is the problem. Far from it. _

_ Loving Shiro has been a reality for so long it's part of Keith by now. And he knows it wasn't a tainted feeling once. _

_ Keith would've happily spent a lifetime in awe for his favorite person wanting nothing in return, that was never a problem. _

_ Things involving Shiro are rarely a problem, after all. _

Shiro opens his eyes again to search for Keith and finds him sitting in a table, across the pool in front of the gazebo.

He seems reasonably composed, absorbed in conversation with Iverson and Rizavi, only the subtle, but tense, grip he has on the arm of his chair telling Shiro otherwise.

Shiro realizes those were Keith's thoughts, coming for him through an invisible stream that has been forming between them since the study room.

And suddenly, everything clicks.

He shouldn't be surprised at the connection being so strong, he imagined it many times, but never anything compared to this. This is madness, and it's... irresistible.

There’s an abrasive suggestion of lips against his neck, but it’s not a sensation as much as it could be a hallucination. It’s not really there. It’s Keith’s memory that makes his way to Shiro’s mind and connects itself to his own memory. He shouldn’t feel it, but he almost does. Like a whispered promise, ripping shivers out of his spine.

And when Shiro rolls his shoulders and allows a tiny, suppressed moan to finally escape from his mouth because he's alone, everyone is reasonably distant and it feels so fucking real, he sees Keith's grip tightening, knuckles going white as his head turns a bit in Shiro's direction as the vampire side-eyes Shiro with a pleading stare.

Shiro responds with a smile that is half teasing, half giddiness and maybe a few slices of shyness. He wants to feel sorry enough to apologize, but he can't, so he deflects the eye contact to stare at the floor under his feet instead.

It must be insane for Keith, to finally have Shiro responding through what’s now a full mind-link and still have to resist. But it feels too good, and Shiro has been neglecting himself, and Keith by extension, for too long. He doesn't want to stop, his patience is wearing thin and it's_ embarrassing _ but it's so good.

Despite the break of eye contact, there's still traces of Keith's presence at his mind and it sparks with interest when Shiro remembers his taste. It's new, and maybe a little weird, but way easier to say things this way. Things Shiro would hold back, otherwise.

_ Like trying to tell Keith he's curious and wants more. Wants to strip Keith off and taste him underneath the intimacy of cotton sheets. Because Keith has been consuming Shiro all this time and Shiro had nothing but samples, always only little nips and licks and stolen almost-kisses in the rare occasion where they got carried away. _

_ Because if consuming Keith in equal measures is condemning, Shiro can't wait to hold Keith down against his mattress and relish in the wickedness they can share. _

There's a slight pull at the string of his mind and Shiro recognizes it as Keith receding. Keeping himself halfway through the link, quiet and collected. Shiro risks a glance at his direction but he's gone from his spot at the table, despite Rizavi and Iverson remaining there.

Leaning over the rail of the wooden structure, Shiro skims over the garden, searching for Keith. It's not hard to figure out his behavior.

This is undeniably different from being telepathically connected through the Ancient Lions magic during a fight. It bears right on the edge of invasive, but still not in the way that is familiar to Shiro. There's space for control here, maybe precisely because Shiro can say he had some... Training with external compulsion already.

But that's the catch. The pull towards Keith feels more like a necessity to keep him alive than just some destructive coercion. Which, honestly, is a trait Shiro possesses way before any of this happening. And either way, Keith is his best friend before anything else, Shiro knows he's safe with him, and he really wants to see if he can get Keith to come out and play.

Shiro takes the bait then. 

There's a memory he keeps coming back to, a night in the study room. It was late, they had spent hours researching old alchemy books for Allura. Both of them were already exhausted when Keith stopped resisting and slumped at the couch to drink from Shiro.

Steady rain splattered the window, its soothing tap being the only source of a sound, aside from Keith's frenzy breathing and swallowing against his neck. Shiro couldn't help relaxing under the twisted, strange sensation of release.

Thankfully, — or not — Keith noticed and let go of Shiro, who only needed to adjust himself on the couch before surrendering to deep slumber.

Then, he dreamed of a warm body under his.

Blood gushing from a bite wound in a continuous flow into a half-opened, whimpering mouth. Shiro's hips rolling and thrusting between lithe and athletic legs that hauled him closer. Prosthetic fingers dug into a perfect, thinner, smaller waist as he pulled it closer and buried himself deeper.

Shiro woke up hard, eyes going wide in shock of finding himself nose to nose with his favorite person, real prosthetic tucked under a shirt and gently squeezing into the same waist of his dreams.

Keith had apparently decided to join him on the couch and laid down to sleep peacefully in front of him. The right side of Shiro's collar was stained with dry blood. They were both covered by a fluffy red blanket he knew belonged to Keith.

Heart racing, Shiro had considered leaving, but it felt so comfortable and warm, the exhaustion from having his blood sucked still lingering over his limbs. The couch was wide enough for both of them and he would hate to wake Keith up.

Ignoring all of his mind's attempts of self-control, Shiro hid his arousal with a strategically placed cushion, lifted his arm to more _ platonic _regions at Keith's spine, and held close to prevent him from falling off the edge.

But ever since that day, he couldn't help but wonder how it would feel to fuck and be consumed at the same time. Having Keith writhing and stirring such distinct kinds of ecstasy all over his bod—

And there it was. A ghostly threat of touch on his ribs, caressing hands making their way through the fabric, up to Shiro's front, inside his open shirt to playfully squeeze at his chest and Shiro bites a lip. The persistent buzzing on his head finally gets cut and leaves him dizzy.

But Shiro doesn’t remember this, of having a full, warm body pressing against his back. Gloved hands now rising and feeling too tangible at the skin on his collarbones and enveloping his neck, turning his chin just slightly to the side so velvet lips can drop a kiss at the corner of his mouth.

Shiro still refuses to open his eyes and believe it's anything but the promise of Keith against him until his lovely, husky voice is leaving breathy laughs and whispers at Shiro's ear.

"Could you please tone it down? I'm dying here, Shiro."

He turns around just in time to see Keith on his tiptoes and decides this is his new favorite thing. The coolest, most badass and dangerous vampire he knows, getting on his tiptoes to reach for him.

Thinking he might start considering high heels, Shiro sinks forward for a kiss.

Only to be hindered by Keith's hand moving up to cover his mouth.

"Not yet." He's a bit breathless, face fully flushed. Shiro appreciates the image. Maybe too much, that's not something you see every day with Keith, after all. It does happen whenever he finishes drinking blood, but he usually avoids Shiro's eyes then, which he's not doing here. They flutter, glimmering in faint yellow as he tries to regain some sense of coolness. It's a stimulating sight.

Shiro gives a hard swallow.

"Keith," he starts, voice muffled by Keith's persisting hold, "I'm losing all sense of self-restraint."

"You mean those last two drops?"

He's trying to be funny. It's a cute attempt. Shiro makes sure to charge all his amusement into a full glare and hums an agreement.

"Yeah, I noticed." Keith retrieves his hand and hides it in his pockets.

Which leaves them to deal with proximity. It's fine, Shiro can behave, he thinks, licking his lips. He kinda misses the pressure. Something to think about later.

"I think I heard you for a moment," Shiro tries, unsure.

Keith leans beside him at the rail. "That’s a little bit how this works."

"A little bit?"

"You had literally only a single drop of my blood, Shiro. It’s not enough for—"

"Turn me into your consort?"

Keith blinks. "Fine. What do you want to do right now?"

"Take you somewhere private and feed you."

"What do you think you’ll want to do tomorrow?"

"Keep you somewhere private and feed you."

Keith narrows his eyes.

"I know what you’re doing," Shiro says before Keith opens his mouth again. "And I’m a big boy, I know what I’m getting myself into."

Keith's face softens as a hint of a smile tugs the corners of his mouth. "I have to agree, you’re definitely a big boy."

Shiro bites his lip, feeling warmth flow all over his body until a terrifying thought crosses his mind. "Would that be a problem?"

"What?" Keith asks, frowning until his eyes go wide in shock and almost dart to Shiro's crotch. "I… No?!"

Shiro supposed he would feel more embarrassed, but Keith is too cute when he's at a loss for words. "Because it's ok if it is, there's a lot of things we can try…" Shiro suggests.

"No," Keith says without hesitation. "I'm adaptable. And resilient."

Shiro lets out a relieved breath. "Good, that makes us two."

Keith opens his mouth but closes it again. Looks away. Shiro mimics him, waiting for as long as it takes him.

"I mean, I think I am." His best friend eventually confesses.

"Oh."

"Yeah." Keith keeps his gaze focused on the plants in the garden. "Just thought you should know."

Shiro scoots closer, drops a kiss at Keith’s cheek, then whispers low at his ear. "I already suspected,"

Keith shivers but doesn't squirm away. He turns on his heels, reaches for Shiro, but stop millimeters away from Shiro's mouth. Eyes locked on his.

"Stop teasing me."

Shiro tries to close the gap, but this time Keith manages to escape.

Shiro laughs, and it's the lightest he's felt in years.

Keith is walking backward. Going down the gazebo's steps and raising a hand for Shiro.

"So, Allura wants to blow her candles and I'm supposed to escort you to the dining room."

"Already? Isn't it too soon?"

Keith bites his lip to hide a smile. "It is, but I'm not the only horny vampire in this house."

Shiro follows and reaches for him. "You've talked to Acxa, then."

"No, takes too long to convince her," Keith's tone is playful, but it doesn't meet his tensing shoulders. They start their way through the garden side by side.

"Keith."

"Yes?"

"The mind link goes both ways."

"I know."

"And you're withdrawing."

"Maybe…"

"But you had a chance to open up your heart already, and I didn't."

"You're saying…"

"Can you meet me halfway?" 

"I don't want it to force you to feel some way towards me while I'm hungry."

"_ Keeith _, trust me."

"I do trust you," his tone is _ almost _ whiny. "You're getting too good at this mind thing."

"Don't worry, you'll catch up eventually."

Keith rolls his eyes, takes a deep breath, and intertwines their fingers together. 

It's the third time this happens, ever since the Coven. His hand dwarfs Keith's, so delicate against his, despite the skin hardened by excessive sword-wielding.

Shiro's heart flutters on his chest like he's 16 again and he adds it to his growing list of new favorite things. 

"My mom and Romelle might've told Allura a secret." Keith blurts out, bringing the subject back.

Shiro doesn't try to hide his curiosity. "A secret?"

Keith looks everywhere, every blooming flower, every passing person, every stone in their way, but doesn't meet Shiro's eyes. 

"Vampires have a few weaknesses."

"Will I ever get to know any of those?"

There was silence as they kept a steady rhythm. Keith's thumb kept brushing at Shiro's index finger, caressing. Shiro wonders if it's even conscious.

"You already do. One or two, apparently." Keith's voice was trembling.

"You're nervous."

"You make me nervous."

Shiro squeezes his hand. "Relax, baby."

"I just… This feels so surreal. I can hear your heart racing, and I know that it's for me. I can hear you in my head, and I can... I can feel you loving me." 

Without embarrassment or hesitation, Shiro sinks to brush his lips against Keith's ear and leave another whisper. "I do."

Keith smiles at him and Shiro wonders how many times he can make that happen again in a day. How many different ways he can make Keith happy. Then, Keith lets go of his hand and, before Shiro can protest, wraps an arm around his waist, to leave his hand resting on Shiro's hip.

"What about you, any secrets I should know?" 

Keith's voice is leveled again, almost content.

"My favorite wet dream wasn't enough?"

Keith stays speechless as they cross the mansion's balcony towards the door. There's a spark through the mind link. A steady, pleasing flame that bridges them both with warm desire.

"I, uh... I suppose it is," he answers. "For tonight."

They enter the room and are welcomed by a low whistle, Shiro doesn't have to look to know it's coming from Lance. Keith flips him off on sight. Shiro realizes it's really hard to pay attention to anything but the warmth of Keith's body against his. It's fine, he can go back to worrying about the war, his family and his place as a leader in the morning. For once, he doesn't mind just being content for having Keith by his side.

Allura blows her candles, gives a slice of cake to Coran, gets two for herself and Acxa and tells everyone goodnight amidst friendly laughter. Just like that. Shiro can say now he would've done the same.

Keith refuses to leave without a piece of cake too, not that Shiro doesn't understand, it's Hunk's cake after all. And it's gone halfway to Shiro's bedroom. Keith stuffs pieces of it at Shiro's mouth, getting him all dirty with frosting. Shiro suspects it's only so Keith can lick it out of the corners of his mouth, but he's not complaining.

They reach Shiro's corridor, eventually.

Shiro looks around. "Seems like everyone's downstairs, right?"

"Anyone would have to go through us for that so probab—"

Shiro shuts him with a kiss.

Crashing hard and unrelenting, like ocean waves in a storm. His hands come up to cup Keith's face as he pushes him against the wall. Shiro breathes him in and only let go once he's sure he sucked all the air out of Keith's lungs.

He retreats to admire his work them, allows himself a smug smile because Keith is panting. Flushed in a devil-red tone, chest hovering, eyes fluttering as he slowly scrabbles through the air until his hands find Shiro's shoulders to ground himself. A lock of hair falls to his forehead and Shiro slides it back up.

Still struggling for air, Keith raises Shiro a thin, questioning eyebrow.

Shiro presses his forehead against Keith's. "I've been thinking of actually kissing you for too long and today was a real test on my resistance..."

"I'm sure we could've done it in your bedroom?"

"I know... I just wanted a few minutes to uh..."

"Just make out?" Keith suggests with a smirk.

"Yeah. That's not gonna happen once we get there." Shiro answers, too serious.

"Hmm," Keith lets out. His hands move from Shiro's shoulders to the collar of Shiro's shirt, putting it away and sliding feather-light fingers on a sensitive neck, drawing patterns on his skin, sending shivers down Shiro's spine. "Not your worst plan."

But Shiro's heart is reacting, rushing in response to something else. "You prefer to get inside and drink already?"

"No. I mean, yes, a lot. But you said I was learning to control it. I want to prove you right."

"Cute," Shiro says, licking his lips. "I'm gonna throw those two drops of restraint away, then."

Keith's voice is a husky whisper. "I'm amazed you're still keeping it."

Shiro buries a hand at the long, soft curls at Keith's nape and brings the other to his chin, tipping it up. Never looking away from Keith, because watching as his eyes close and submits to pleasure is an exhilarating experience, and captures Keith's half parted lips.

They're thin, soft, sweet, but Shiro already knows all this. A tentative flick of his tongue and they open just another bit, only enough for Keith to suck Shiro into him, making the most lovely and hypnotizing sound.

Shiro closes his eyes. He's kissing Keith. He's really, finally, kissing Keith. And he can feel the vampire's lips tugging up in a smile.

So Shiro surrenders, releases a low whimper as Keith's cake and venom flavored mouth reach for his, licking, claiming and devouring him whole. Not even slightly different from what he has been doing to his neck for months, and Shiro wonders if he should have realized things sooner.

He's used to the prickling on his skin signaling as the toxins work on his system and he welcomes it. The last thing he wants tonight is to faint from the shock of having teeth ripping into his skin. Keith's embrace brings him back to surface, even if he's still gasping for air.

But the way the mind link works is... Unusual.

Keith's hands descend through the fabric to find the remaining two buttons on Shiro's shirt and try to undo them without taking his mouth off him. Keith struggles, whines in frustration against his lips and Shiro can’t avoid laughing and doing it again when he feels Keith's grip on each front pulling hard until it pops the buttons away.

"Eager," Shiro teases. It’s his favorite shirt, but he won’t complain, he can buy another tomorrow.

Keith only responds with a noisy kiss and putting his hands all over him, but that’s where it gets… Strange. The poison inhibits all pain, but Shiro can't avoid a whimper when he feels Keith's touch searing lightly at his skin.

He breaks the kiss and looks down, not sure what to expect, but all he sees are Keith's gloved hands, massaging through both smooth skin and old scars, alternating with the numbed grazing of sharp claws rising up and up to his chest, playing with his piercing, then gripping a handful of Shiro's pec.

A little hiss escape Shiro's throat. His touch is warm. Not just in the way it gets warm when you’re filled with desire, but also not enough to hurt, or burn. It’s just… Warm.

He stares at Keith, who's been focused on his face and reaction, eyes glimmering with worry as he keeps caressing Shiro's skin. One of his hands goes down Shiro's waist, drawing circles through the fine fabric at his hip bone, kneading at the curve of his ass and drawing him closer, until Shiro can feel Keith’s already hard cock grind against his own.

The drag of fabric and Keith’s purposeful touch is overwhelming, leaves him dizzy. He closes his eyes again, focused on sensation. Someone moans, Shiro doesn't know if it was him, or Keith, or both of them. It doesn't even matter at this point, where he ends and Keith starts and how their mouths found each other again.

All he cares about is the instigating nip at his bottom lip, the rasp of sharp teeth. The way every touch builds into a shockwave of warmth. And it should hurt. His nervous system expects pain, but it never comes. His mind is swirling. He doesn't know how much time has passed. Minutes, hours, a whole lifetime, all he knows is that he's trembling, sweating, feverish, and searching for comfort at the curve of Keith's lovely neck.

Keith smells like soap and sweat and home. Shiro thought about tasting the tender skin there for so long, he can't believe he finally gets to brush his lips and lick a stripe up into his ears, ripping shivers out of Keith's spine.

"When I'm hungry, I feel like this. As if I'm burning all over again. Like I'm... I-I'm..." Keith tries, his voice a weak and raspy whisper, as Shiro sucks marks into his skin.

But Shiro relents, makes a way to Keith’s ear. "Reliving?" he suggests, because he remembers.

Keith hums, and Shiro's not sure if it's a confirmation or pleasure for having his earlobe sucked into Shiro's mouth. He wants to believe it's both and makes his way to kiss at Keith’s jaw.

Keith whimpers. "You— Ah! Your blood cools it down, give me back sensation."

"Does it help to share like that?"

"Through the mind link? Yes." He stops once Shiro finds his mouth again. "It's supposed to trick you too. It'll only stop once I drink from you, and it'll get worse if I don't."

Shiro leaves one last kiss on Keith's lips and pulls back a little. "I wasn't feeling much until now."

"You only had one drop, makes it easier for me to try and numb it down," Keith mumbles.

"But it's hurting you." 

"Shiro..."

"You didn't have to prove me right if it hurts you, Keith. Prove me wrong instead." Shiro pleads.

"It’s not… much. I can—"

"It’s enough," Shiro argues.

Keith opens his mouth to protest but closes immediately when Shiro tugs his waistband and starts walking and pulling Keith backward to his door. He reaches behind Shiro and slams it open then.0

There are rejected changes of clothes all over his bedroom floor and Shiro almost stumbles on one of Allura's forgotten heels, because he can't bring himself apart from Keith for a single second.

The way the corners of Keith's mouth tugs upward should serve as a warning but Shiro is too distracted by the hand on his ass. So Shiro can’t avoid a yelp as his best friend playfully shoves him down his four-poster bed but helps Shiro to remove his boots and shuck off his own.

Shiro positions himself on his elbows and waits, admiring Keith's lithe form under faint moonlight, crawling to trap Shiro under his hips.

He seems so shy, all well dressed and on display. Timorous eyes not really knowing how to deflect a stare of adoration without a lock of dark and heavy hair over them.

Shiro lays back, rests his head at the pillows and slides both hands over Keith's thighs, all the way up to his waist, marveling in the way his hand almost circles Keith's legs entirely, then slides back and up again.

It's supposed to be comforting, and Shiro knows Keith got the message when he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down.

"Keith?"

"Hm?"

"We have all night to do everything we want to do, or not. Okay?"

"Uh-huh," Keith exhales, then proceeds to press his ass down on Shiro’s cock.

Shiro’s mind almost blacks out over just how right they fit into each other. Keith rolls his hips slowly, watching Shiro gasp. Once. Twice. Then Shiro thrusts up hard to meet his movements and Keith moans at the pressure. Reaches down to palm himself, unbutton and slip a hand inside his pants and moans again, bites his lips in pleasure and Shiro knows he could come just from watching Keith, but he won’t.

Instead, Shiro wraps the always convenient prosthetic around Keith's back to keep him from losing balance. Then, sits up to lick at the lacey fabric over Keith's chest, mouth closing over a nipple to suck and bite gently over it. Shiro likes the shirt, doesn't want to ruin it, only tease the sensitive skin with the netlike texture.

And it works, Keith releases the sweetest whimper and arches his back just slightly. Shiro shoos Keith’s hand from inside his pants to replace it with his own, skating fingers over Keith’s bulge, mimicking the movements he had done before, feeling Keith’s length and teasing for maybe too long over a wet spot. Tongue and lips still indulging on Keith's pecs, and only when Keith cries out his name, Shiro gives a last little nip and lays back down, settling himself comfortable and lazy over his pillows. Letting Keith catch a breath, but never ceasing the grinding against his ass.

Keith must have run a hand over his hair because it's falling over his eyes now. Krolia's request flares on Shiro's mind when he takes the moment to slip his fingers inside Keith’s pants, but he just shoves it aside with a carelessness that would've worried him at any other time. Tonight is easy enough to silence it through a bone-deep desire to satiate Keith.

Shiro pulls the front of Keith’s boxers down to release his pretty cock and wrap his fingers around, tease at the head, rub a fingertip at the leaking precome. He wants to learn how Keith likes to be touched, how to turn his moaning into unrestrained whining.

Keith rocks his hips into his hand and the way he moves is mesmerizing. Shiro could watch for hours, but his skin tingles in relief when Keith finally gives in and sinks down to search Shiro’s mouth for a sloppy kiss he’s eager to respond. But only briefly, because once Shiro tilts his chin up and a little to the right, Keith follows without questioning, acting out of instinct and trailing down his neck with hungry lips. 

Shiro takes the moment to pump Keith's cock one last time and feels it twitch in his hand. It's with deep sorrow that he neglects it to slip inside Keith's boxers and get a handful of his ass. The young vampire whines against his neck in protest but understands when Shiro's fingers dig into his skin, encouraging him to get closer, and Keith carefully positions one of his legs between Shiro’s.

Establishing a rhythm for them to rut against each other, still slowly, Shiro promises out loud he won't get to tomorrow without leaving at least one mark on Keith’s pretty ass.

And Keith shivers, growls against Shiro's jaw, tongues the chain of his necklace aside, nuzzles the collar of his shirt away and drags teeth and hot breath against his sensitive skin. The result is immediate, Shiro's heart races, pumps blood faster through his veins, gets his own dick twitching in anticipation and the insanely good friction. Keith stops after scenting for a vein and licks him, hold skin between his teeth. He’s teasing, like a cat playing with food, but never ceasing the slow drag of his cock against Shiro. 

Shiro tries to breathe, will his body to relax, but more than the overwhelming desire to come as he tries to grind against Keith in search of the sweet drag that keeps him on edge, Shiro needs Keith to bite him already.

"Keith… Keith, _ Keeeeeith _..." he breathes out, only a request on his mind. "Baby, please..."

And Keith complies.

There are three waves of pain before pleasure: the first is a delicious sting as teeth sink down Shiro's neck and he can feel it piercing through every layer of skin. Another when Keith retrieves his fangs and every bone in Shiro's body aches for the lack of contact. And ends in the unrelenting pull of Keith's mouth sucking, swallowing, whimpering and urging his blood to pour faster.

He thought he could last longer, but the combination of twisted sensations and the rewarding satisfaction of finally getting his love to seek release against him in every way possible is too much.

Keith's skin is on fire, or maybe Shiro himself is on fire, the whole bedroom could be on fire and Shiro doesn't even care. _ Let it consume _. It spreads and draws back, builds up in his heart, his mind, sets his senses alight.

Shiro moans, his back arching as much as he can while pinned against his bed by the vampire. Every muscle in his body tensing, hand pushing Keith impossibly closer to his neck as Shiro’s cock spills cum inside his pants and Keith swallows him eagerly. Takes every drop of blood his body needs to stay at Shiro's side for another day, another month, year, or eternity.

All Shiro needs to do is convince Keith to turn him. Because the thought of leaving Keith to face immortality on his own is laughable at best. The sudden shortage of blood on Shiro's brain could be making him delirious, but Shiro can't see himself allowing this, never.

He only notices he said it aloud when Keith lets go of his neck to press a bloody kiss against his lips, hard enough to steal all the air Shiro didn't even know he still had inside his lungs.

It tastes bitter, but Shiro doesn't mind. He swallows every noise and blood mixed with saliva as Keith keeps frantically rutting against him.

The drag of damp fabric against his dick is overwhelming, makes him shudder, dig fingers on Keith’s waist as the vampire pulls back to lean on his arms over Shiro.

He’s breathless. Perfect, pretty face tainted with blood and desire. Flushed, parted lips exposing bloody fangs and eyes squeezed shut, hair completely disheveled falling over it. Shiro could never resist. He lowers a hand between them to grip Keith's cock again, skate his palm around the head, while telling Keith how beautiful he is, every single bit of him. Keith fucks harder into his hand and Shiro says he can’t wait to have Keith inside him, filling him up, just the way he's moving now. Until Keith's biting his lip, crying out Shiro's name and his movements become erratic.

He can feel a pull on the sheets under his head when Keith grips it, hear the fabric ripping over dagger-sharp claws. Feel warm come spilling from Keith’s cock all over Shiro's hand and clothes. He keeps milking him, but sees none of it, because he doesn’t want to miss a second of the way Keith’s face twists in pleasure. 

One last thrust and Keith stops to catch his breath. Shiro pulls his hand back up to lick the come dripping, making the most indecent sound on purpose. Keith opens his eyes in curiosity and just watches, panting, the way Shiro sucks on each finger, until finally slumping beside Shiro, _ strategically _ missing the mess on Shiro’s stomach and searching for a kiss. As deep, filthy and ungraceful as a kiss can be.

Their hearts slow down together after a few minutes.

Keith pulls apart, sits back over one of Shiro’s leg and drops a peck at the tip of Shiro's nose, getting it dirty from all the blood smeared on his face, blended with a blooming shade of pink painting his cheeks and all the way down his chest under the delicate fabric of his shirt, making him look more alive than Shiro had ever seen him.

"Better?"

"The best I’ve ever felt," Keith tells him. The glance he shoots at Shiro's neck and lower is pleased, almost enthusiastic. "And," he exhales, "I finished ruining your shirt."

"Another?" 

Keith snorts.

"It's fine, I thought about a turtleneck, next time." Shiro teases, hand searching for Keith's.

Keith's smile is gentle as he tangles their fingers together. "Never, please," and sinks back down to kiss him again and again. 

Keith presses and licks at his mouth so sweet and hypnotically, it's enough for Shiro to forget himself and all else. As if floating, his mind focuses only on Keith’s taste, his warm presence against Shiro’s body, gentle hands caressing his hair and temple.

Until Keith's voice is nothing but a distant echo on his ears. "Shiro?"

Shiro opens his eyes, they're unusually heavy, the room seems too dark. Shiro blinks, refocus and realizes he almost drifted off on Keith's lips only.

Which seems like a nice thought to entertain. And judging by the wide-eyed look on Keith's face, he heard it.

"Ok, you're tired." Keith acknowledges, sitting up.

Shiro tugs him back by the hand. "No, no. Wait. Your mother wanted me to talk to you."

He lets go of Keith’s hand to lean over his elbows and shoots a grim look at all the situation on his lower torso. "Before getting into your pants, or at least meanwhile, but apparently we overestimated my composure regarding you."

Shiro will never forget the horrified look on Keith's face.

"My mother what?"

Shiro released a heavy sigh. "Okay, I'm gonna try again. Consorting. She pulled me to a corner to talk about consorting. She didn't pressure me or anything," he added, seeing the alarm on Keith's continuous lift of eyebrows. "But I have to admit I'll never, ever forget how strong her grip can get. In any case, my intentions tonight were focused on feeding you and talking about whatever we're going to do. A real serious conversation. You wanted that too, right?"

"You're suggesting we have a serious conversation about a blood ritual right now? After all… this?" He points at the messy state they find themselves in. 

It's an attempt of diversion. Probably just his defensive side kicking in.

Not to blame him, it's a terrible moment and Shiro knows. He's never been good at this, those relationship talks. But this is Keith. It's his best friend, Keith always listens, and Shiro wants to be open with him.

"You're satisfied, this is literally the first time I can think properly all day. Still not straight, as you suggested. I don't think it's possible for anyone to think straight having you around."

Keith squints at him until realization kicks in. "You spent the whole day to come up with that, right?" he teases.

"I’m proud of it and I mean it, ok?"

Keith's shy laugh is the sweetest sound, makes Shiro's heart burst.

"I think," he starts again, "All I want to say is I love you and I'd happily keep that mind link to keep you safe and sane."

"Right, I also heard you think about asking me to turn you." Keith retorts, crossing his arms.

"Yes, that is a concern on my mind, but I know it's a conversation for another time. A long time, probably."

"Fine. Then I'm not gonna be the asshole to remind you how dangerous it can be to keep a mind link in your position. Considering we already get overwhelmed by the Lion's magic all the time."

"I appreciate the gesture and will reciprocate it by stating that I did notice the danger. I feel a little guilty, actually. I was supposed to get back to Veronica about a report over the Olkari Clan this evening and I forgot completely."

"Don't worry about that, Allura covered you."

"She did?"

"She was already stressed over Lotor and Kolivan constantly sneaking you out of her sight to discuss the new quintessence distribution. Veronica said 'Report' a bit too loud and Allura took her chance. I never saw someone so relieved for working. And I've been watching you happily trade all kinds of things for work for years now."

"I suppose I can't contest that. Well, one more thing for me to thank her tomorrow." Shiro purses his lips. "But I still want to hear your thoughts on the other topic."

Keith takes a moment to consider.

"I... I don't know. Acxa and Allura have ways to make it work." 

Shiro tugs at the chain on his neck. "Already working on that."

"What's that? It's pretty."

"Not sure, something else for me to thank Allura. It’s probably enchanted and the only thing that kept me from going down on my knees and sucking you off immediately when you arrived. Fuck, you make the cutest flustered face when I say something that turns you on at inappropriate times."

"I thought we were having a serious conversation."

"Yeah, it's the only way for me to be smooth without... You know—"

"Being embarrassing?"

"Yeah."

"Only for you, still very embarrassing for me."

"Exactly."

"So this is gonna keep happening?"

"Yes. In public. But I swear I'll be more subtle."

Keith's eyebrows raised almost to his hairline. "Right, because you're the king of subtlety…"

"I didn't see you noticing me getting hard every time you sucked on my neck."

"But I did? Hard not to notice?? I just thought it was inevitable."

"Because you sucked me that good?" Shiro says, and smiles when the blush on Keith’s cheeks turn into violent red. "Fuck, Keith, keep making that face and I'll be ready for round two way sooner than later."

"You're not already?" Keith teases, trying to recover.

"Half of my blood is with you now, so…"

"I didn't take half."

"I know baby."

"You'll die if I take half."

"Seems like a good way to go."

Keith smiles. "So it was that good."

"Keith…" he starts. "You do it so well I can assure you it has been the main thing in my head every time I jerked off for the past two months."

"Oh."

"And you were avoiding me."

Keith's expression fell off. "I just can't help feeling like that turns you into my personal blood slave." He admits, rubbing the back of his neck. 

"Is that because Pidge called me your property?"

"A little. She's right tho, you reek of me."

"Kinky."

"_ Shiro. _"

Shiro smiles as his free fingers skate over Keith's waist, caressing. "Was your father a personal blood slave to your mom?"

"No?"

Shiro tugs at Keith's shirt and slips under it, moving up Keith's ribs. "Do I feel like a personal blood slave to you?"

"No."

He caresses and digs fingers at Keith's skin. "Is it something you're interested in?"

"What?! I... Uh—"

"Cause I wouldn’t mind." He brings it back down and playfully slaps at Keith's thigh, making the other man jolt beside him. 

Keith squints at him. "You're playing dirty."

"Hard to avoid it now that I know you like it." He pulls Keith's hand closer to his mouth and places a kiss on his fingers, eyes cherishing Keith's fond smile. "Will you let me drink your blood and take care of you again?"

"If I didn't know how reckless you are, I'd say you planned this."

Shiro narrows his eyes and grazes a tooth at his knuckles. "Did the guy who entered a corrupted Lair on his own to save my life just called me reckless?"

Keith tilts his chin up, straightens his shoulders. "I'll stand by my words."

"Can you promise me to think about my proposal then?"

"Proposal…" Keith repeats the word, making Shiro's heart skip a beat. "Interesting wording…"

"I mean…"

"You can take it back."

"I wasn't going to. Mindlink is still there enough for you to know I'm being honest."

"Don't need that to see through you, Shiro," Keith warns, but still smiling.

"Fair enough," Shiro answers, " I just don’t want to fuck this up."

"Out of our realm of possibilities."

"Are you sure? I have a bad history."

Keith squints at him."That's debatable, but in any case, an old friend helped me learn how to be patient."

Shiro huffs a laugh against Keith’s fingers. "He must be wise."

"And hot, likes to seduce virgin vampires by stripping in study rooms."

Shiro feels his cheeks burn and bites playfully into Keith’s knuckles in retaliation.

Keith pulls away with a laugh and licks his lips, thoughtful.

"You really want this? To be my…" he trails off.

"Consort? Yes," Shiro answers. "Yes, _ yes _."

He observes, awestruck, as Keith brings the hand Shiro was just holding to his own mouth and bites into his palm, never taking eyes off Shiro. He leans closer then, hand dripping blood at Shiro’s torso as it makes a way to his lips. And never breaking the eye contact, Shiro licks at it. 

He swallows the warm liquid, but Keith doesn’t withdraw as blood keeps gushing slowly out of it. Shiro grips at Keith's hand then, pull it closer as he sucks into the wound. Until it flows through his body and instead of burning all the way through again, it soothes his nerves.

Keith pulls back a few seconds later. Avoiding Shiro’s eyes while licking the wound to close it off.

Shiro thinks he’s a vision to die for.

"I can’t believe we did all that and I’m the only one with ruined clothes," Shiro says, already feeling the mess inside his pants getting sticky and not knowing what else to say after a centuries-old blood pact that binds their hearts together.

"You should’ve been more careful." Keith teases. "I was already planning on coming back to the party for at least another drink, so…" he looks away.

Shiro narrows his eyes at Keith. "I should’ve let you come in your pants."

"Don’t be mean," Keith whines, but the smile on his lips shows he’s not even a bit remorseful.

Shiro pout. "It’s my favorite shirt. Come on, get up. I want to change."

Keith lifts and leaves to the bathroom in search of a clean towel.

Shiro takes the moment to get up, kick off his clothes and search his wardrobe for some clean underwear.

"Do you think matt would borrow me one of those sweatpants to sleep? I wanna stay but I haven't slept here in a while, I don't think I have clothes aro—" comes Keith's voice from the bathroom behind Shiro, but it falters as he gets closer.

Shiro catches the hungry stare at his ass when he reaches back for the towel to clean himself.

"See something you like?" he teases.

"Yeah…"

Shiro throws the towel on a basket at the corner of his bedroom and puts on his underwear and a shirt, then turns around to face Keith lost in thought.

"Wake me up when you're back and you'll get way more than just a look," Shiro promises, leaning down to leave a peck on Keith's lips. "And don't worry, Matt won't even notice. But you can also borrow some of mine."

He walks over to his bed.

"Your clothes don't fit me," comes Keith's statement from behind him.

"Exactly, they really don't," Shiro explains, amused, but focused on turning off his floating prosthetic and putting it to rest at the bedside table, fluffing his pillows and laying down on his back.

"I'm really surprised I don't have to chain you to a bed for you to rest." 

"I'm exhausted and that's the last thing I want to be once I get to fuck you," Shiro confesses, as calm and collected as his jumping heart allows him.

At least until Keith surprises him by crossing the room in an instant to collapse over Shiro and capture his lips in an irresistible kiss.

"Are you sure you're not into me being your blood slave?" Shiro asks once he's allowed to breathe.

"We'll talk about that later," Keith murmurs against his lips.

Shiro laughs. "I'm just saying I can be that if you want."

Keith pulls away. Dark, kind eyes locked on his. Shiro could drown in them, he's sure he could find all the secrets of the universe hidden there.

Keith runs fingers against his cheek. "I love you."

"That too," Shiro says, closing his eyes and leaning into the touch.

He explains it with his heart, sending a single word through his thoughts.

"Lover?" Keith pleads.

"Lover," Shiro vows.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, comments are very appreciated!


End file.
